Shut Your Eyes and Endure
by toxicdelena
Summary: Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)
1. Chapter 1

**Shut Your Eyes and Endure**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**Note:** Okay, so this is based loosely around the War of The Roses, or rather the events after it, obviously names and personalities of the characters have been changed to fit within the Vampire Diaries context. Also, this story is first and foremost fiction based on the relationship between Elizabeth of York and Henry VII, therefore, it will not be following history (otherwise it would be predictable).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these fabulous characters unfortunately, but the story itself is mine as are any original characters that I will inevitably create.

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><p><strong>Chapter I:<strong> The ties that bind

Behind her smile is hatred, she stands behind closed doors awaiting her terrible fate. Some may delude themselves into believing that she is happy, her mother certainly would. But smiling does not mean she is happy, but she would not give _him_ the satisfaction. She would shut her eyes and endure her life with him, from now until the remainder of her days.

**November 1485**

**Sheriff Hutton, Gloucester **

Parchment folds, melding together as the fire licks the words away from the letter that reads:

_My darling daughter, _

_I write to you upon a most urgent and pressing matter. I have spent many months negotiating with Elizabeth Salvatore, the king's mother – and I am certain that you have guessed its purpose. I have secured for you the closest that you will get to your right, and through you your children will know great glory. You, my noble and dutiful daughter, will marry King Damon. It has been recognised – now that your blessed brother has departed this world- that you have the closest claim to the throne that could potentially uplift the Lancastrians, you are a threat. But you marrying Damon would unify the houses of York and Lancaster and perhaps then England may finally feel peace. I expect you to return to London by weeks end. _

_You must trust in the words that Miss Bennett once spoke. _

_Your mother, Isobel. _

She forces her hand to unclench from its firm grip, there is a pulsating anger inside of her. How dare her mother? How dare he? This is wrong, all of it! Her life is over, ruined by the very person that she must now marry. Oh her mother knows her too well, knows she would never do anything disloyal – she'll make the sacrifice so that others can have peace. Then of course, there is the matter of Bonnie's prediction, whilst Elena enjoys her ladies maid, and friend in private, she has never believe in the sight.

"He who causes such ire could never make me happy." Elena rises from her chair when she is certain that the letter has burned away. Her uncle, her brother…they died because of a monstrous man, a man whose own selfish ambition rivalled that of her mothers. She would be so bold to say that her mother loved the power that she was capable of because she would never do anything short of her duty.

"I hate him." The words slip from her mouth like snakes venom, drawn out and bitter. She hears the sigh of her aunt, who treated her with more kindness and love than her own mother did. Not that she had blamed the former queen, for most seemed somewhat detached from their children. She doubted that would be true of herself, she would not be so selfish. The alarming thought which runs through her brain is the horrible truth that she should be trapped forever with a man so disgusting and foul, she would bare his children and hold his arm, she'd smile but it wouldn't truly be from the heart. She should have married Sir Matt whilst she had the chance, even if she did not love passionately as he did. She had heard through whispers that he had taken the daughter of Lord Mikaelson as a wife. It had not hurt her, she had wanted him to be happy.

She wept into her pillow the night before her carriage ride to Windsor castle, it seemed a horrid twist that God had bestowed upon her, for surely it was his decisions that planted Damon on the throne. Why had her life turned so unhappy? What had she done to deserve it? The only peace that came from it was the chance to give unity to the entire country, to end wars between the Yorks and Lancastrians. She would do it for them. She would do her duty, but he would never have her heart.

**Westminster Palace**

As the carriage pulls up to Westminster Palace, there is a lack of people lining the entrance. She is not surprised to find that there is a mass lack of enthusiasm at the marriage – at least from the Lancastrian side. Although, Elena was not so fooled by her own blood, they did not want Damon on the throne. But setting her eyes upon the place she was born, where she had spent many summers of her life.

Her gown is a dark green, the shade of winter grass – no other colour would have been appropriate given their meaning. But green, it was _their _colour and it left a bad taste in her mouth.

The carriage rattles over uneven stones, a hand flying to clutch the wooden sides of it with uneasiness. She does not feel nerves, it could not be that – there was no feeling at all regarding the new king. Usurper! Had her Alaric, uncle, king and confidante survived – she would not be marrying the horrid and vile Salvatore. They would have asked the pope for dispensation, so that they could marry. There were whispers of course, that they had been lovers. Whispers that Matt had once voiced, whispers that she had denied.

The door opens and a hand is stretched forward to help her exit from the carriage. Bonnie, who had also been sat quietly in the carriage, exited swiftly behind her.

Each step felt like a lifetime, every moment that passed going unusually slow as a woman step forward – expression unreadable. Elena recognised her after a moment, several times during her life had she encountered Elizabeth Salvatore. There had been a politeness, although she never gave a good word towards her mother. "Mistress Elena, I hoped to speak with you before you met with the king, my son." There is no mistaking the use of the title used, she was in their eyes no longer a princess – in fact she was not regarded as being titled at all.

"Lady Elizabeth." Elena replies, her tone clipped as her arms hang by her sides. Their footsteps fall into pattern with one another, the pace still slow as they walk towards the entrance of the castle.

"I saw this in a dream, god came to me and told me of this day. You will wed my son, you shall carry his child and you shall be Queen of England. That is your destiny."

There is no more room to speak, as the doors open wide and she steps into the throng of people. Bonnie still follows behind her, her gown of pale damask trailing behind. There is but a moment of silence as the king steps forward, a man that she had never laid eyes on before. The golden crown, imbedded with the jewels of England gleams in the autumnal sunlight and Elena thinks it to be horrid that he looks so handsome, he evil monster who tore her life apart.

"I'd like to speak with the Lady Elena alone." His voice pierces the air loudly, my mother gives me a pointed look before leaving with the other courtiers. The servants exit the room, leaving on the royal guard – did they expect her to take a dagger to their kings throat?

"Many have whispered, Elena, that you had carnal relations with your uncle." She swallows, hands clench the skirts of her gown. How dare he! Many had whispered countless things whilst she was the princess, although none held truth in them. The fact that he could bring up her uncle, a man that he had killed on the battlefield in order to claim the throne…no she would not even look at him.

"Your silence offers much reassurance." His tone is sarcastic, his grip upon her arm firm as she stares at him, eyes burning into his head. With a sharp rip, Elena pulls her arm from his grasp and stares up at him. "If you must ask me, then why should we marry? If you do not believe me"

"I can see it in your eyes, you think me a monster. Just remember, soon you'll be mine and if you defy or deny me – I will show you a monster. Or perhaps you shall give me a chance and you will know the real me."

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><p><strong>Note:<strong> There is a lot of debate about whether Elizabeth of York and Richard Plantagenet were lovers, but there were reportedly rumours of Elizabeth asking for help in marrying him. Therefore, I wanted to put some of that in with the relationship between Elena and Alaric.

This chapter is the shortest, all others are twice as long. The next chapter will be posted in a few days.

Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter. I have been planning this for a while, and I sincerely hope that you will follow, favourite and review.

Much love, Charlotte


	2. Chapter 2

**Shut Your Eyes and Endure**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these fabulous characters unfortunately, but the story itself is mine as are any original characters that I will inevitably create.

**Chapter II:** Destiny

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><p><strong>Westminster Palace; November, 1485<strong>

She cannot sleep for her thoughts are of Alaric. There is a horrifying truth that runs through her mind, for he lies in the cold ground of an unmarked grave to decay out of existence, whilst her betrothed sits upon the throne that he forcefully took. There can be no justice for it.

"Are you alright, Lady Elena?" Her thoughts are interrupted by Bonnie, perhaps the only comfort that she now has in life. Her ladies maid had been with her since she was a young princess, growing up within the walls of the castle. She stares at the stone hearth, where the fire is blazing, warming the cool room. It seemed almost cruel to be given her old rooms, but under terribly different circumstances.

Elena would not move into the Queens quarters until her wedding night, a night that should have been spent with Alaric, although even Matt would have been sufficient. Anyone but him! Her friend had loved her, she had loved her uncle (who had loved her back). She remembered the jealously in her Aunts eyes before her death, but she had not been able to deny her feelings. They had shared secrets, hopes and several kisses to the lips.

Some would think her to be a harlot, but she was no such thing. But many would naturally try to discredit her, hating her Yorkist roots. But she was a daughter of kings, and great women. There was no denying that her mother had stood upon the path of righteousness. Although she had never once seen Isobel humbled. Her caring Aunt Miranda – along with Grayson -had died too early, leaving her cousin a motherless child. There was large disgrace granted with Jeremy's birth, for Miranda had not been married at the time.

"Have you heard anything from Jeremy?" Elena asks softly, tilting her head up towards Bonnie. In private she often insisted that she be called Elena, for titles meant nothing in her friendship. She had long since known that Bonnie was her cousin's sweetheart, but he had been lying low since the rise of Damon. Her cousin, although a bastard was still a male York boy, with a claim to the throne, even if it hung by the weakest of threads. That being said, Elena doubted her cousin's sense upon occasion. Rational thinking was not often a prominent cause in her brother's mind. Of course, Damon would not act now against him – if ever. He will in the first year be settled upon making friends, to make his throne secure.

There was something that she would have to do, to truly secure the throne of England. A babe would grow in her belly, the heir to the throne (a hope of many).

"I have, he is continuing with his panel portraits. I think he has quite a talent for artistry." There is an undeniable sense of pride in words and Elena cannot help but smile. She was happy that her friend had cause to be proud, for she had so little to be happy for. If the only thing she would ever have in her life, is to see peace in England and the happiness in her friends then that would be enough.

"Do not trust the king, Elena." The words pull her away from her thoughts, she frowns profusely. She had said countless times that the sight was folly, that having visions was just imaginings that held no truth. "Bonnie, you know that I've never believe in your visions." She replies, crossing her hands over her chest.

"Arthur." Bonnie whispers, barely loud enough for her to hear. She turns around, forehead creasing deeply as she steps forward. "His name will be Arthur." She mutters, before waving a hand of thought dismissal. Elena is nothing short of confused as she takes a book of poetry from the mantle. "Nothing, Elena, ignore me." She responds after a moment,

Despite the hour, royal trumpets are blown. She wonders for a moment whether she should step out of her chambers, but thinks better of it.

"Retire to your chambers, Bonnie. I do not need you for the rest of the night, and I am certain that whilst sleep will not come easy for me, you require it." She announces, curling up onto the chair which had been situated before the fire, covered in rich, soft furs. For a moment Bonnie looks as though she may argue against it, before she nods in defeat and bids her a goodnight. It is only a few moments before the doors are opened and Elena hears quiet words spoken to the guards situated outside her chambers.

Elena tries to guess who could have arrived at the palace, someone of great importance clearly. Not a single trumpet had been sounded upon her arrival. It was not like when she was a child, when smiles were genuine and in abundance, merriment hung in the halls and trumpets sang for the Plantagenet children.

It is her first night back in the palace that she once called home, now it feels like a prison. Guards situated outside for her protection, but she can imagine that they are positioned there to also keep her in.

Time passes, she does not know for how long. But pages turn easily, poetry filtering into her mind. It was true that she found beauty in the written word, and as a child up until she was 10 and 5 years she had written her thoughts in a journal. But the death of her father had taught her to keep secrets, even if it had been caused by a fever. Death had meant less security.

The chamber doors burst open, causing her to drop the book in shock. Her fingers scurrying to pick up her silver damask robe that was lying haphazardly on the floor. Though clothed in a chemise, it was thin and exposed too much to the man glaring at her. She clutches the robe to her chest, her forehead creasing. "What on earth do you think you are doing barging into my chambers at this time? It is indecent!" She proclaims.

His hand comes forth to clutch her hand painfully, a fire blazing in his eyes as he looks at her. She wonders what she could have done to cause sure ire. Or perhaps he needed no encouragement for his anger. And people said he was charming! "Do you think yourself better that everyone, Elena? You are not princess anyone, and you are not queen yet. When the royal trumpets sound, you are expected to gather for the arrival – which I am certain that you are aware of." His clutch tightens on her hand as she grits her teeth.

"My lord…Damon you're hurting me." She bites out, desperately trying to tug her hand away from his vice grip, but to no avail. "Answer the question, Elena." She wonders how anyone can truly imagine that she would be happy with him, he was nothing but cold and evil. Hot tears sting in her eyes as she opens her mouth to speak. "We had not spoken about such things yet. I did not want to cause your anger for appearing where I was not wanted." She responds sharply. He lets go of her hand forcefully, his own swinging away from her slightly.

"It was a foolish error on your part, many whispered of your absence as a sign of defiance. Especially since it was my brother who has arrived." He sits down in the chair and points towards her robe. Elena slips it on, feeling slightly more comfortable. Although his ability to barge into her chambers was alarming, but how could have expected anything less? He is after all, the king of England. "I do not want to be the monster, I am not as heartless as you may think. I know I killed your uncle and that others have died at my hand, friends, family members. But I was a war. You are a woman, you would not understand."

She does not say anything, his words do not soften the hatred in her heart. His words could be lies, softly spoken to look like sincerity. "It is late, your majesty. I have given you my reason for my actions, now please leave, or I shall." She announces, turning away from him. Try all he likes, he had threatened her, hurt her, killed people that she cared about and he wanted her to think that he was not a monster. If he wanted companionship, or marriage beyond the name only, he would need her forgiveness – and that was not easily given.

To her relief, he stands and makes for the door. "My mother shall be coming to visit you in the morn, you have much to discuss. You may wish to sleep before that."

Morning brings bring sunlight streaming in through open windows, which Bonnie rushes forward in a flurry to wake up Elena. A shake is given to the former princess, who wakes with a start to stare up at her friend. "Lady Elena, your mother is here. She is early…earlier than proper." She adds at the end, with the finest whisper. Ever since the success of implementing cathedral clocks, the invention had been far more domesticated. Now everyone with money had a miniature cathedral clock, exactly like the one that Bonnie was quietly glancing at.

Elena rises from her bed, her eyes spotting her mother dressed regal, although she had forgone all shades of purple and gold. That was simply too bold, even for her.

"I wished to speak with you before your day begins." Isobel announces, as Bonnie comes over with her robe. Slim arms slip into it as she walks over to the chairs beside the fire, where she had sat for many hours last night.

"The king's mother is held with high regard, she has been given the best quarters – although she has kindly left the queens' quarters for you. But she is the woman with the highest station at this court and is to be referred to as _'My Lady, The Kings Mother'_. I hear that you have already spoken, what did you call her?"

"Lady Elizabeth, she did not seem displeased with me for it. In fact, she spoke rather joyfully towards me." Elena wished to say that the king's mother was nicer than her own, from what she had acknowledged. Of course, she did not doubt that it was Elizabeth's encouragements which pushed Damon to take the throne of England. They must now call Alaric a usurper and any knowledge of the love she held of him, forgotten. Her mother would never mention it, neither would Bonnie and it would fade away.

"Elena, do use your head." She says with distaste, rolling her eyes dramatically. Elena could not wait for the day when she would be free of listening to her mother's orders, although she doubted that even when she was crowned queen that it would stop. "You act as though you're a great martyr, sacrificing your happiness for everyone else. But you are doing it all wrong. It will do our supporters no good if you do not make your union a good one."

Isobel forces a smile, it is strained and Elena knows that she could not muster a genuine smile, let alone a false one. Only she had truly mastered that. The next time she saw Damon, perhaps she would often him a smile. It would conceal her hatred, and maybe she would see if there was any charm in the man that everyone proclaimed to be as charming as a serpent.

"Thank you for the advice mother. I am certain that you had more to say, but I must get ready for my encounter with the kings mother." She announces, turning away so that she could pull a face of frustration. Was she not doing what everyone wanted her to? Did they want her to say nothing? To be stoic and pretend that she doesn't have a mind?

Elena barely has time to do her morning chores before Elizabeth Salvatore is announced. The time had been filled with a morning meal, prayer, the long task of dressing and Bonnie had heard of a new hair fashion that she wanted to test. It had been successful, as always. Her friend was magical with her abilities when it came to hair, or anything that she set her mind to.

"My Lady, the Kings Mother." The words are parroted as she curtsies before her, she had of course mastered the art of a graceful curtsy many years ago. Elizabeth laughs as she enters the room, soft lines forming around her eyes as she walks forward.

"Elena, you did not call me by that title yesterday. I expect that your mother has spoken with you since. Nevertheless, I can only presume that you would think me to be cool or dismissive of you, the figurehead of the rival line. But alas, I know that we are trying to create peace and you are a woman who had no choice in where she was born." Elena is surprised to find that this woman had given birth to Damon, she was filled with compassion, although she was clever – that was perhaps clearest of all. They sit down in Elena's regular sitting area, the fire crackling in the day to warm away the chill.

"You shall not be married until the new year. Christmas-tide will of course be celebrated at Eltham Palace and then we shall return her for your wedding." Damon obviously did not wish to look as if he needed to marry, she being the closest York heir to the throne. No, he would marry in his own time it would seem. She could also not appear as though she were a queen in her own right, that was just too much power for Salvatore.

"There is also the matter of your ladies maids. There is the Lady Caroline, I believe that you shared a nursery as children. Her family is recently titled, but very wealthy. The Forbes family own many estates in England, it would be smart to marry her to my youngest son. Had Lord Mikaelson's daughter not been married, that would have been a smarter match. I think she is essential to your household." Elena decides that it is best not to argue with the

"There is however the Lady Katherine, she is a from a strong Lancastrian family. It would do you well to have a mix of both houses. Unity. There are rumours to be weary of, but rumours and court gossip are inevitable." Elena raises an eyebrow, never once had she heard of a Lady Katherine, but she would soon meet her it would seem. "A suitable amount would require two more, although as you continue as Queen you may find that you need more and naturally, dismissal of a ladies maid may happen. There is an Olivia, Daughter of a Duke and Lady Anna." Elena nods politely, the realisation that this is truly happening setting into her bones. She will be Queen of England, she will marry the usurper and put everyone's happiness before her own.

"The king is currently with the Privy Council, they are repealing the act of Titulus Regius." She did not know whether to be surprised or not at Damon's actions, it seemed the most sensible thing to do since he was marrying her. The act itself had declared her parents marriage invalid because her father had been betrothed to another, thus making their children bastards. The king marrying a bastard would look unsavory. Elena spared a thought for her two younger brothers, who had simply disappeared from the tower. Many had said that Alaric called for their murder, but she simply could not believe that.

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><p><strong>Note:<strong> I have incorporated Katherine in this story, naturally she does not look like Elena (Nina). Instead, she'll have the appearance of Katherine von Swartzschild aka the Katherine from the books. Golden blonde curly hair, blue eyes etc.

I have written the third and fourth chapter of this story, but I hoping to get more attention for this. I am very grateful to everyone who has favourited, alerted and reviewed this story. I hope that the amount of reviews that I gain for each chapter will continue to grow. Chapter 3 will be posted on Sunday.

Much love, Charlotte


	3. Chapter 3

**Shut Your Eyes and Endure**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these fabulous characters unfortunately, but the story itself is mine as are any original characters that I will inevitably create.

**Chapter III:** Hope for a Monster

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><p><strong>December, 1485<strong>

Elena was once again Princess of York, although royal titles were not permitted for either herself or her mother. But they had been legalized. This had all happened after Damon's coronation, which had been a month before her arrival. He had not sent for her until he was ordained as King of England, then he wished to wait another two months until they marry so it would appear if she had any claim to the throne. She did not care, she wanted to be his queen only for reasons of peace, as a husband he could offer her nothing and she would want nothing.

Court is full of merriment, many hosting the festive time with great happiness. Elena sits lonely beside the fire, waiting with baited breath for her betrothed to arrive. He had sent word earlier that he would visit and now she had been forced to wait. The passing of a month had not caused any happiness between them, in fact she did not speak to him often. She had met his brother, who despite having a nicer attitude, she could not bring herself to like either. He was the brother of the usurper, guilty by association.

On the rare occasions that they do meet, Damon has taken to kissing her cheek when he arrives and departs. If it were the touch of her sweetheart then she might smile softly at the sentiment, but he is her nightmare. Still, she sits patiently beside the fire reading a selection of books which had been delivered to her by the king's mother. Each informative, interesting and high in Lancastrian favour.

"My lady," The voice is soft, she does not even raise her head to acknowledge him (something that would naturally cause his anger). But he says nothing of it, instead taking a seat in the head chair, which had reserved for him – she was not so bold to sit in it. Her eyes looked over at the cards which were laid out on the table, she had played a game of one in her wait. Their own conversations had now become filled with the game of cards, they played for no money, just to fill the awkward silence between two people who despised one another. Although Elena had recently come to realise that he did not dislike her as much as she hated him.

"Lift up your skirts." Damon orders, causing Elena to drop the book she had been holding. It falls into the pile of cards, pushing matching numbers away from one another. A crease of confusion forms in her brow. "You are mad!" She proclaims, she pushes herself away from the chair and takes a step backwards.

"Come now, Elena, surely you know why I must do this." His eyebrow raises, his words are smooth like liquid gold, but horrid to behold. An arm pulls her body flush against his, hand pulling at her skirts. "I will not take you now. But there are things I must know." She drops her head in shame, his actions only cause her disgust. There is a part of her, small as it may be that understands why. All those rumours of Alaric. He wanted to know whether the ship had been boarded by another."

Her hands shake and she finds herself clutching the fabric of his doublet as he raises her skirt higher. "Damon, I told you of this before; no man has ever touched me." She whispers, feeble are the words when he seems so intent. He's expecting his goods, like she were some prized cow.

"I received another letter today, trying to discredit you. How can I deny that which I do not know myself? I wish our wedding to be done in the most traditional sense." The entire ordeal of having witnesses outside the curtains for the bedding sent her heart racing. "Should you not bleed because you were deceitful then I would have to cut your foot."

Elena does not reply, her thoughts are occupied by the location of his hand on her thigh. It trembles with fear. She does not know what he shall do, she does not know much. Her mother had told her that on her wedding night she would lie back whilst the man put himself inside her.

Her legs are clenched together as a hand comes to part them, easier than she would have liked. Damon touched her sex, a movement that caused her to latch tighter onto his doublet. "I have only ever kissed a man, please stop." She announces, cringing as he pushes a finger into her. He raises an eyebrow instantly and looks at her. "It was either I do it, or the court physician. And if you had been found spoiled, it was better that it remain between us." His finger remains for a few moments, an uncomfortable invasion for her. Eventually, he pulls down the skirts of her gown, but keeps her body flush against his own. "Now I shall enjoy our consummation more."

Some men have a charm that make people like them, it was a charm that her own father had, and her uncle also. It was a charm that Damon possessed, but she could not find anything to like him. He destroyed her life.

He presses his lips to her own, she is surprised by this action, but knows it is not love. He wants to stake a claim on everything, she is to be his mind body and soul. He wants her to forget every kiss she ever had before, every flirtatious stare and she knows it. He releases her lips, and his eyes lock onto her own. "I promise you, Elena, I will never hurt you." She wanted to argue that he already had, but the secrets of her heart will be kept under the cover of darkness. "What will your motto be, as my wife?"

She takes a step back, easily pulling out of his grasp which become loose. "Shut your eyes and endure." She mutters through clenched teeth as she walks over to collect her fur lined cloak. "That hurts, Elena." He gasps, mocking her. She places the cloak on her shoulders, feeling exceedingly warm within the comfort of her chambers. But she had a need for the cool air, word had even reached her ears of the first frost of winter falling. "Elena, where are you going?" He questions, a few steps behind her as she walks down the hallways of the castle. She turns around, brushing away a tear. "I have hope that there will be peace in England, that you will not be the monster that I believe you to be. But it is too early to achieve either."

She had hoped to find peace in her walk, considering Damon had decided not to follow her. A fact that delighted her given the current situation. Elena could not believe what had happened in her chambers. He had kept her around waiting because he wished to check that, she had thought that perhaps they would discuss saint's day, since it was upon them. But festivities had been halted for her because he had requested her presence!

"Elena, you should be in palace. It is now your duty to make your husband favourable, talk about your admiration for him. And if that does seem like too hard a task for you, there are sweet meats and spiced cakes on offering, surely you have missed those?" She scoffs at her mother and walks forward, wishing more that she could discuss things with Elizabeth.

"I shall be in attendance of the festivities this evening, I am certain that the king would be angry if I missed it." She announces solemnly. If he was not the king, Elena may well have slapped him for his actions against her. But he could do what he liked, she was his betrothed, the promise that she would be his in a month.

"You must not draw attention away from the king. You are a York princess and you have always had that ability to charm a room, it is his first Christmas as king. You would do well not to ruin it." She did not wish to dance for him, or anyone. She danced at her father's court, as a princess, and even for her uncle whose eyes had latched onto her. Dancing was merry and bright, which she did not feel.

"Mother, you speak as though you support the king. I recall you saying many slanderous words against him, when he rode down from France against Alaric." Elena accuses, eyes blazing as her eyes set upon her mother. She was certain that her mother set everything out in life, the fortune of falling in love with a king, who loved her back just as fiercely. They had tunnels built from their chambers, so that her father could visit without the entire court gossiping – it was a tunnel that she would never inform Damon of.

"I am smart, daughter. If I were to speak out against the king, even in private, you might find a noose around my neck. He has ears everywhere." Isobel mutters before turning away from her daughter.

"Dance for us, Lady Elena." The king commands it, Isobel - who had expressly forbidden Elena to dance nods at this, how easily the will of the king can change the minds of many. Though charming, there are still those who say he is pretender, in her own thoughts Elena believes it. There are often whispers heard, with her cousin's name upon their lips. They would supplant Damon, and place him on the throne. But what good would it do now? Should she pray for his death, and hope that the world would be as it once was? No, for her love is now dead and buried in the ground.

She extended her arm to Caroline, who would join her in this dance. Her old childhood nursery companion had arrived a week prior (all others would arrive when Elena had been placed in the Queen's chambers, she suspected that Elizabeth had a hand in it), and since then they had spent many hours into the night talking. The time spent together as children had not been forgotten. It seemed appropriate to ask her, since the golden haired beauty would want to impress Stefan the second son, newly appointed Duke of Somerset. It would have not been appropriated for Elena to ask a gentleman to dance with her, and she would certainly not ask the king.

Caroline hops up from her own chair gracefully, excited to be a part of the festivities – a bubbling exuberance escaping her as she takes Elena's hand within her own. The music begins, and they are moving and twirling around one another, to switch partners with others and then join back together. She can feel the eyes of the king burning into her, but she smiles brighter than she had as of late. Happiness was perhaps not as lost on her as she had thought, since she could find comfort in her friends, her ladies.

Later that night, there is a knock on her door and Elena rises to open it herself – having bidden both Bonnie and Caroline a goodnight. She had done her evening prayer, slipped on her gown – a subdued green, with sparkling golden embroidery. A sigh escapes her as she sees that her visitor is Damon, she had expected it to be Elizabeth, for her mother would walk in unannounced, as would the king.

"You must stop visiting me in the evening?"

"Are you having impure thoughts about me?" He teases, causing her cheeks to redden. It was ludicrous and highly inappropriate. But they both understood her feelings, forgiveness was not something that she had even tried to muster yet. Of course, in these moments when he teased her, or said crude comments that made her blush – she wondered if this was the real Damon.

"I have am having a gift made for you. A bed made from the finest wood in all of England, it will be yours when you are queen. There are to be grand emblem carvings within the posts, to match the new tiles upon the floor." Elena was surprised by how passionately he talked about his gift for her, but perhaps it was also a gift for him – if he hoped to visit her bed often. "What is the emblem?" She questions with a raised brow.

Damon smirks, stroking a piece of hair from her face. "The Salvatore rose, my beauty, the red of Lancaster and the white of York. It looks quite glorious." His actions confused her, such beauty and gentleness clashed greatly against his coldness early that same day. It seemed a cruel trick that he wanted to play on her. "You will one day feel something for me and you know it. But first you must rid yourself of that hatred, which can easily be turned to love. I am selfish and I want you to love me." He whispers the words to her and she shakes her head at him, her eyes are full of sorrow.

"I cannot…I shall not love you. But when marriage vows are spoken, no matter my feelings, I shall be on your side." She promises because through illness and death, she would be a Salvatore. Her children would be born royals of the Salvatore bloodline. At long last, England would have peace. That is her great cause in this world.

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><p><strong>Note:<strong> The support for this story makes me incredibly happy, it's such a great feeling to know that you are appreciating the collaboration between Delena and historical times. I hope that you will share your thoughts on this chapter as each and every review is appreciated and taken into account.

Thank you for reading! Please review, favourite and follow this story.

Shut Your Eyes and Endure will be updated next Sunday.

Much love, Charlotte


	4. Chapter 4

**Shut Your Eyes and Endure**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these fabulous characters unfortunately, but the story itself is mine as are any original characters that I will inevitably create.

**Note:** No! You're not imagining things...I am updating four days early. But the support that I am getting for this story makes me immensely happy and I have a lot of motivation that continues to grow with every review, follow and favourite that this story receives.

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><p><strong>Chapter IV: <strong>On the Eve of Dread.

**January, 1486; Westminster Palace**

The candle blew in the soft draft of wind, whilst feet clad in velvet slippers walked onwards in the darkness. Her night had been filled with the most tremendous of dreams, Alaric had won the battle and he had come home to make her his queen. There were those who said it was wrong, but the pope accepted their union – the love of man and wife. She was his for all her days, until she met the holiest judgement, in a far better world than this one. It had caused her to shed a tear when she woke to realise it had been nothing more than a fruitful dream. Darkness had not yet past as Elena walked the corridors of the palace, lit only by the sweetest hue of candle light. As she travels familiar paths, remembering when she skipped down them freely, Elena could only wonder if she would ever feel that happy again, that free. But of course the answer was simple and dissatisfying.

Finding her favourite place, a spot beside the grand fire in the banquet hall, Elena sat beside the hearth and let out a laboured sigh. Servants had already awakened, their day starting much earlier than her own. She smiles at them, pulling the fur lined robe closer to her body. Despite the large fire, there is a coolness in the air that distracts her slightly. She knows however that she will soon have to leave, it would not do for courtiers to see her in her nightwear.

"Lady Elena?" She cringes inwardly, her head tilting as she sees Elizabeth stepping forward to sit opposite her, her smile though weathered through many years of worry and determination still had a softness to behold. Elena spared a thought, if only minor, for the troubles that will have come from taking the crown. There are those who whisper of her cousin, who wish to plant him on the throne. However, Damon's claim to the throne came from a woman, who had been the third wife to John of Gaunt, Edward III's fourth son. Elena would always believe that her family, the York's would always have the strongest claim to the throne. But those words would never be uttered again...if she wanted to keep the peace and her own head.

"I had hoped not to be caught by anyone." Elena confessed, tongue darting out to moisten her lips which had gone dry in the cold. Elizabeth nodded in agreement, folding her arms over her lap. Her soon to be mother in law had not been raised as a royal, she knew nothing of a jolly court unless it came from being Isobel's ladies maid, when her mother had reigned as Queen of England. A passing memory for all, as her mother was now no more than a calculating player in King Damon's royal court.

"I know that you hate my son." Elizabeth murmurs, quiet enough so that only Elena may hear and not the abundance of servants that had flurried into the room to prepare court for the day. She had been stunned into shock for passing moments, as confusion at her lady, the king's mother's brashness. Yet still she could find no malice in her words. "I have been married three times in my life, and never once have I been fortunate to marry for the love. The first made me Elizabeth, Countess of Richmond, it gave me Damon if nothing else. My second husband was decidedly cruel, but he gave me Stefan. My son's may have different fathers, but they have never been anything less than close and true brothers. My husband now, he helped Damon become king…that is for certain, yet still I do not love him." Elena frowned, as informative as it was, she found no real point to the secrets of Elizabeth's heart. Did she wish to empathise with her situation in some way, for that did not seem possible. "You do not love him now, I know that. But I have seen it in my dreams, you shall love him. I am certain. And if you should never love him, you will love your children."

Elena smiled at her, although she did not heed the words that Elizabeth had given her. She believed that only those in the church, or the pope himself could proclaim such a thing – of visions in dreams and enchanting futures beyond what one can normally see. Elizabeth simply wished to make the marriage with Damon seem more appealing, she is and had always been his biggest supporter.

Rising from her chair, Elena curtsied towards Elizabeth and excused herself to retire back to her chambers. Bonnie and Caroline had likely risen and be waiting for her to return, so that they may dress her for the day. Knowing that she could not possibly have dressed herself. It had dawned on Elena that it was the last night in her chambers, where childhood dreams had been built and they had seen fit to place them in there once again. Soon she would be Damon's, no matter her own thoughts on the marriage – which were nothing short of disgust and anger. He may, in his most feeble effort have been trying to persuade her that he was not a monster. But with every kind act came a moment of brashness, the grabbing of her hands when he said she'd dishonoured him. The way he had pulled up her skirts, to satisfy his own worries. He did not believe what she had said to him, so she would not believe in his kindness.

"Lady Elena." The voice was smooth, and from the distance in her memories she could recall that voice from long ago – but could match a meeting, but could recall his name with ease. She bowed her head slightly towards him, a man of good looks. "Lord Mikaelson." The eldest had always been the most handsome among courtiers. She recalled Caroline telling her of his younger brother, a man who believed himself to be of great fortune in the world. She knew now that there were talks to between the houses of Forbes and Mikaelson that Caroline should marry Niklaus…but alas he had bedded a noblewoman and created a child. The Marshalls, as Caroline had told her were not pleased and forced a marriage between the two. It is said that they are both unhappy, but a child there soon shall be.

"I heard you were back at court, it pleases me to see you rise again. A princess like yourself should not be cast into nothing." He whispers the words before bowing to her and leaving. Elena whips her head around after him, watching as he walks away. She could recall it now, he had danced with her on many occasions when festivities often happened at the palace. He was still as charming and her eye not been caught on Alaric, she would have considered him a suitable match. She found Elijah to the most honourable among gentlemen.

Continuing on her path towards her chambers, she felt as though her life was a complete spiral from what she had ever wanted. This should have been a day of merriment for her, excitement and joy at the prospect of marriage to Alaric. She had loved him and he had love her, not a common thing amongst marriages. It would have been right, she would have been his queen and the white roses would still decorate the hallowed halls. As she opened the door, an elated Caroline leapt forward. "From tomorrow you shall be a queen to be called your majesty!" It was true that the title itself would be granted to her, yet she would not be crowned for some months. Damon had thought it best that she conceive before a crowning happens – she suspects on the unfortunate occasion that she fails to do her duties as a wife, he would ask for annulment on the grounds that she had been a lover of Alaric. He needed to secure his throne with heirs, she understood that…but it was cruel regardless.

"Why do you look so sad? You shall be a queen, you shall bring Princes and Princesses into the world!" Elena ignored Caroline, instead walking over to see a letter with Damon's royal seal upon the front.

"Give me a moment." Elena announces, turning to sit down as she picks up the letter. She waits until Bonnie and Caroline leave her chambers before she opens the letter.

_My dearest, Elena._

_I hope that you are well on this fine day. Although I am certain that I shall make you feel wonderful tomorrow. I am looking forward to many things, Elena. But I shall not see you today. Do not be too saddened by that, for I know that you shall miss me. I have gone riding with Lord Lorenzo and my brother Stefan. I am told a hunt is an excellent way to build ones excitement, the only disappointment is that I shall not be able to be with you when I return this evening. But one night when we shall have the rest of our lives is not so unfortunate. _

_Whilst I am away, I have left all power within my mother's hands. But there is nothing to be done, I have prepared everything. I hope you will wear your gift, I have placed it on the mantle. Green emeralds, for a Salvatore you shall be._

_No more now for lack of time, but I wish for you pleasant dreams of me. _

_Yours, _

_Damon R._

Elena frowns, crumpling the letter within her hands as hatred seethes within her body. He was too bold, too crude and she hated him for it. Many would consider it charm, and would likely jump to have a night with the King of England. Although she was almost certain that he would bed them, her father had a mistress, why should Damon not? Like so many things in her marriage, she would simply shut her eyes. He could not hurt her if he did not have her heart. A quick flick of her hand sent the letter burning in the fire, anger flaming in her eyes.

She did not have to wait long before Bonnie opened to the door to check whether or not she had finished reading the letter that her betrothed had no nobly left. Elena nodded her head sharply before walking over to the mantle, a velvet pouch resting upon it. Attentively she pulled the jewels from it, admiring for a moment the delicate, yet ornate necklace that he had gifted to her. She knew that not to wear it tomorrow would be an act of defiance, one he would greatly be angered by. It was if she were branded by him, his own Salvatore to control and make perfect.

Caroline peered over her shoulder and admired the necklace for herself, her mouth opening in awe as the emeralds sparkle in the glint of winter sunlight. "Elena, I had not thought you to be someone who enjoys jewels." It was something that Elena greatly agreed with, she may appreciate a small and delicate piece but as princess she had worn more ornate jewels, as befitting of her station and being a queen meant gilded crowns and rings the size of grapes.

"He shall be named after King Arthur of the round table." She heard the words leave Bonnie's mouth as both she and Caroline turned around to see her clutching Elena's day gown. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she did not want her friend to believe that she thought it stupid. But the sight was something that neither Bonnie nor Elizabeth could convince her of.

"Bonnie, are you well?" Caroline queries, knowing nothing of Bonnie's alleged gifts of "the sight". Slowly Elena walked over, offering an empathetic smile as she takes the dress from Bonnie's hand. "A beautiful dress, but blue is perhaps inappropriate today. I should not be seen to be mourning a lost love." She says before walking over to her wardrobe. There was a sigh of relief that left Bonnie, whilst Caroline dismissed the situation. Whilst Elena loved her golden haired friend dearly, she did not know if Caroline would go running speaking of heresy. Better to dismiss the situation entirely.

"Lady Caroline, what do you know of Lord Mikaelson's oldest? He has arrived at court." Elena queries as Bonnie begins to pull at the strings of her chosen gown for the day, a fabric of rich silver – her mother would be pleased. Caroline held up two pairs of earrings, in which she then chose the smaller of the two, a hanging heart with three small pearl droplets. "I am told he is very noble, some say a marvel to behold. Many ladies have caught his eye, but he yet to make a betrothal which makes his father furious. But he is after something that many seek, but never gain…love." She grins.

Elena frowned, it might do well for her to make a match for him. She may have her own happiness, but she would gladly watch someone else have love. "Who of my ladies is yet to be betrothed?...Aside from yourself" She questions, knowing that Caroline would know it all. Should she ever need information, the woman before her was the person to ask.

"Lady Anna has not received any betrothals…but I am told that she is a little strange. Of course, that might simply be gossip. Of course, the Lady Olivia has a betrothal with Lord Lockwood. The Lady Katherine has received many betrothals, I am told that she had intended to marry Lord Lockwood's uncle Mason, but the battle had many casualties." Elena nodded, not wishing to speak of the battle which saw her lose many of her loved ones.

"I shall see in the coming months if any are suitable." Elena announces, knowing that neither Bonnie nor Caroline would be sufficient in this. Elizabeth wished for a match to be made between the kings brother and Caroline, and she knew of the fondness that both Jeremy and Bonnie held in their hearts for one another. She knew that once her own marriage was solidified that she would show favour towards her cousin, she would beg Damon if it meant that Jeremy could live freely.

Why should others be unhappy? Only she should suffer for the peace of all, it was as God had intended it to be.

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><p><strong><em>Note: <em>**In case you didn't know, the 'R' after any of Damon's signature stands for Rex which means king in Latin. All English royals use it.

The next chapter will be posted on Sunday.

Pretty please with Delena love on top leave a review!

Much love,

Charlotte


	5. Chapter 5

**_Shut Your Eyes and Endure_**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**_Chapter V:_**_Honour and Obey_

**_Note: _**There are scenes of a sexual nature in this chapter.

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><p><strong><em>Westminster Palace, January 1486.<em>**

She had not been blessed with peaceful dreams. Night had turned into turmoil and her mind had flooded with horrors, a dreadful fate for her to endure. In a matter of hours her life would be in the hands of someone she hated. No matter the charm he wished to put forward, or the gifts that he wished to bestow upon her, there was no happiness to be had. Elena had come to terms with the situation, of only to avoid the conflict of an argument between herself and Isobel. Who never really did the role of mother any justice. But Elena, she would do her best to be a great mother, a powerful and admirable queen and most all, she would accept the title of peacemaker that she had been granted by many.

But still she could not shake the darkness of her mind, she did not need nightmares to see Damon stood on the battlefield, blood clinging to swords whilst the body of her Alaric lies lifeless, circlet ripped from his helmet and placed upon the usurpers head. Damnation!

Elena cringed at the memory of her mother's visit just before she was ready to retire for the night. In which her mother had told her the most inner and secluded workings of what happened between husband and wife. She could not look at her mother for fear of blushing, but her mother's instructions for her to just lie there seemed awfully dismal. She had already concluded that it was not an act that she would find enjoyment in.

"Have you slept at all?" Bonnie questions, alerting Elena to the presence of another in the room. She smiles softly, never moving from her position in which she was settled against pillows. Instead she tapped the side of the bed to allow her friend to sit beside her.

Letting out a sigh, Elena decides that there were questions that needed to me ask…no matter how inappropriate it may be. "Bonnie, you and Jeremy…um…you have had." Bonnie laughed at her, hugging her shoulders for a moment.

"Yes. I am certain that one day I shall marry Jeremy, and so we have shared a bed together if that is what you are asking." Elena nodded for a moment before deciding that she could not continue any more, it was not right to ask and she could not bear the thought of hearing of more discomfort that she would inevitably endure.

"I will see to it that Jeremy is welcomed at court, he is dear to my heart and I know you hold nothing but love in your own for him." Elena announces, slipping from the covers as she walks over to the window, hands clasped together.

There's a flurry of movement as Caroline, her own lady mother and Lady Elizabeth walk into the chambers. Elena turns away from the window to offer a soft smile. She feels a little embarrassed to stand before Damon's mother in only a chemise, but alas it was her day and everything was about to change.

She stares at the gown, dread filling her body. She had chosen to wear white, an unusual colour to wear on ones wedding. But Elena had wanted to make a point, she could not look any more virginal if she tried. After Damon's "test", she wanted to dismiss any gossip. The bodice and underskirt of her gown contrasted with the white, a mixture of dusky gold beading in delicate swirls that expanded over the pale bodice and down the rim of the outer skirt. It was in truth a gown fit for a queen

"An odd choice of colour." Elizabeth notes with a glint in her eye. Elena bows her head in agreement before stepping forward to pluck a grape from the plate which Caroline had placed on the table. Everyone in the room appeared to be encouraging her to eat, she could stomach the fruit and bread but she would stay away from the meats. She needed the wedding to be over before her nerves were dispelled.

The weather is ghastly, rain pouring outside relentlessly and she knows that Elizabeth had hoped for a gleaming sun. Such a thing would have represented God's blessing on the marriage. Of course, it all seemed a little too far fetched for Elena to believe who understood that if God did not want the marriage to happen then it would not.

Regardless of whether it rained, she would enter Westminster Cathedral to marry a man whom she despised greatly.

"Ladies, be of service to your future queen. A bath should already be prepared, and make sure to put the rose water in to make it fragrant for her wedding day." Isobel's voice rung through the air whilst Elena resisted the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance, she saw today as no different than any other day that she dressed. On would go a corset, her gown and her hair would be done in the latest fashion by Bonnie. It was nothing new, the only difference was that she would not return to these chambers afterwards. Never again would she sleep in the bed, or sit beside the fire, or look out of the widow which was perfectly placed or her to see the swan pond outside.

She was not eagerly awaiting Damon's gift, the ornate feather bed which he had crafted for her with Salvatore roses on the spines, red and white. She wondered if the drapes surrounding the bed were decorated in white and red roses. Everyone would marvel at its grandeur, say how generous Damon's gifts are and Elena would think of nothing but revulsion.

**Westminster Cathedral**

Behind her smile is hatred, she stands behind closed doors awaiting her terrible fate. Some may delude themselves into believing that she is happy, her mother certainly would. But smiling does not mean she is happy, but she would not give _him_ the satisfaction. She would shut her eyes and endure her life with him, from now until the remainder of her days.

She walks, knowing that Damon would not be stood there…not yet. He was king and she would have to wait for him to walk down the aisle to her because no one kept the king waiting. Many gasp at her gown, marveling the beauty of it whilst the emeralds around her neck catch the eyes of most. There are noble courtiers to witness the wedding, all within the favour of Damon – although she doubts that he truly trusts any of them.

She stands, her head bowed low as she waits – she is not nervous, instead she is disappointed that this day has truly come. Nothing had stopped it and in her most selfish thoughts she found herself wanting the York's to once again have power.

The sounds of thick boots hitting stone filled her ears, as his footsteps continued to sound closer to her as she glanced up at the Archbishop, who remained stoic and controlled. Damon was suddenly beside her "Lady Elena." He greets, whilst she curtsies slightly.

"Your majesty." She says the words fluidly, despite the lack of conviction that she felt in them. They step forward afterwards, Elena feeling as though she is in a daze. Her hands slip into his and she realises this is the first time she's ever held his hands. In their most private moment she'd clutched his doublet, he had planted a kiss upon her lips. But never had she held his hands. The thought provided unwelcomed and continual discomfort. She was in a daze, not wholly listening to the words that the archbishop was providing. Instead she imagined that she was standing with someone else, a warmth of love in her heart.

"I Elena, take thee—"She freezes momentarily, her thoughts only of Alaric. In the break of words she felt Damon clench her hands, which shook with uncertainty. Carefully she sighs. "—Damon too be my husband." The pressure on her hands eases, and Damon's face settled from the frown on his face. She understood why he might be worried, any sign of her unhappiness would give an Yorkist rebels ammunition to rise up against him and despite her hatred of him, she knew that it was better that they didn't.

The ceremony was blur as she tried to think of Damon and not her lost love. Would it have been possible in another life that she would have liked Damon? If he were not the King of England, and she was just a girl and not the future queen of anything, could she have loved him? Could she have wanted him? Elena glanced up at him, tears in her eyes and for the first time she felt sorry for him. She was born into a family of power, and he was born into a lineage that claimed greatness and if you believed it was gods will, perhaps you would fight for the cause. Her father had fought with Richard Neville, the kingmaker to plant the Gilberts on the throne. He didn't ask for this life and neither did she.

Even in her hatred, she had finally found some sympathy for him in it all. He looked at her questioningly, although no words were spoken. It wouldn't have been appropriate given the formalities of what they were in fact doing. But they were suddenly being pronounced husband and wife and his lips were being planted on hers. She imagined that he did it with a slight more passion that usual because he wanted this union to look stable. Appearances were everything.

The procession back to the palace had been met with joyous cheers of merry courtiers, whilst Damon's hand clutched her own. It wasn't love, or even sentimentality…all just appearances. "You look beautiful today." He notes causing Elena to smile at him, but turn her head back quickly towards the people cheering.

"Do you like my gift?" He questions, causing her to scoff. She stares out of the carriage, not even looking at him as the words begin to leave her mouth. "You cannot buy my love with tokens." She responds, a bitterness laced in her voice. All softness she'd felt during the ceremony had quickly disappeared, leaving her cold to him once again. "There is something between us, I can feel it and I know you will too." He tells her with certainty. Elena admired his conviction, if nothing else.

"We shall see." She responds, removing her hand from his as the carriage door opens. She shivers slightly, rain hitting her as she hurries insight the palace – as quickly as elegance and grace would allow.

When they sat down for the banquet not long after they arrived, many stepped forward with gifts. Elena noticed in an instant that the courtiers were regarding her with royal titles. She was still surprised that Damon had allowed that before her coronation. "Is everything well done?" At first she is confused by his question, which he clearly picks up on. "I was not raised in a joyous court with banquets and jubilant dances, I know only what I have been told. It is either well done or I truly cannot trust anyone in my own court." He announces to her, causing her to drop the piece of bread that she had been holding.

"It is well done." She responds, her hand finding her goblet, her eyes were trained on Caroline who had made a dance partner out of Stefan. She had to agree with Elizabeth, they would make a beautiful paring.

"Would you dance with me?"

"No." She responds, her eyes remaining forward. The chance of any conflict building is halted by the sudden appearance of Elizabeth who looks upon her with warmth before kissing her son on the cheek. There was no mistaking that Damon was Elizabeth's favourite, or the love he felt for his mother. But she understood that Stefan did not feel unloved, he was simply the second son of a second husband.

Elena notices the look that Elizabeth and Caroline both share as her golden haired ladies maid steps forward towards her. She notices that her husband is being drawn into a conversation with his mother whilst Caroline steps forward. "We need to prepare you for the bedding ceremony." She whispers. Brown orbs meet blue, and Elena offers a short nod before standing up. Damon glances up at her, noticing movement from the chair beside his own but says nothing, instead turning his attention back to Elizabeth.

Every step makes her heart pound, she doesn't want to admit that she is scared so instead she remains silent, walking to the queens chambers with her posture tall and proud. Behind her are Caroline and Bonnie, knowing that her new ladies will not begin serving her until the morning when they must pull away her sheets and show them proudly – the bedding of man and wife, the loss of her virtue and freedom – although she never claimed much to begin with.

"I do not believe that you will required to wait long before your marriage to Stefan, perhaps a few months." She assures Caroline, who cannot remove the beaming smile from her face. Elena can feel only happiness for her friend, knowing that to find love in a marriage is a rare thing. "And Bonnie, I believe that once I have a child in my belly, I will be able to persuade the king to allow my cousin to court." Elena enters the chambers and sighs knowing that once her parents had occupied such regal stations, been known throughout the kingdom.

"Elena, the love between you will one day burn bright and hot, I am certain." Bonnie whispers, placing a hand upon her shoulder. She has inevitably noticed that Elena has talked of everyone else's happiness but her own. At one point Bonnie had recommended caution, now Elena was not so sure of anything.

As her gown is removed, her hair pulled down from its pins and allowed to fall in soft curls, Elena remains stoic. The emeralds are removed from her neck, and she watched as Bonnie walked over to the bed which was as magnificent as Damon had told her. The spines of the bed had been carved with doubled roses, and the curtains surrounding gold with white and red roses. The bed itself is covered in a green damask, Salvatore green.

Elena stands in a white chemise, a modest v dipping at her chest with surrounding lace to make it look pretty she presumes, her mother had picked it. Over it she wears a green damask robe, waiting in silence for Damon to arrive. A noble lord has entered the chambers, she believes his name is Tyler, although he stands beside the guards whilst clergymen bless the bed. The Lady Rebekah has been invited in, and stands beside Bonnie and Caroline. A noble lord and lady to witness the bedding of the king and queen, important and inevitable.

When Damon enters everyone bows with their backs to their king as he walks towards Elena, he bows his head and she bows her at him. A small part of her finds comfort in everyone else being there, as she fears being alone. But she more so wishes that they would all disband so she could not have to endure this in public. He kisses each her hands before waving his hands to Bonnie and Caroline. She watches as they turn down the bed and she as if a weight were pulling her, walks over to the bed, discarding her robe into Bonnie's hand and slides into one side whilst Damon slides into the other. Her friends are on either side as they begin to pull the curtains around until they are completely closed off. In a few moments she hears the chamber doors close and everything is silent.

Elena had been told that the witnesses would sit and wait until it was over and their king had finished. The sheets which she had begun to clutch her body are pulled away, pushed down the bed. She feels his hands caress her breasts through the chemise and although she wishes that she wouldn't, her eyes find his. The kiss he places on her lips reminds her of Alaric, it's loving and full of passion, enough to make her imagine for a moment that Damon could love her.

Her mother had provided her with little knowledge on the matter, and what she had provided was dissatisfying. But she found that listening to her mother was perhaps the wisest thing to do when she didn't know what to do. Damon's hands are upon her body as he kneels over her, continuing to kiss her lips. She wishes that she could love him, could cherish every moment of this. But every time she thinks that there could be something redeemable in him, she remembers what he did and it stops it.

As his hand slips between her thighs, pushing up her chemise, she finds herself confused by his actions. She expected him to simply put himself within her and finish. He brushes against her flesh causing her to shiver. "What are you doing?" She questions in the quietest voice, aware of those waiting for confirmation. Damon lets out a laugh, it's loud and barking, causing great embarrassment on her part. "Oh Elena, the education for ladies is so pitiful. What were you told to do?" He questions, raising an eyebrow to her.

"Nothing, just lie there." She murmurs, watching as Damon grins slightly before pressing another kiss to her lips. "Well wouldn't that be unfortunate and terribly boring. I swear, it's a mystery how uneducated you can be. I told you in no uncertain terms that I would make you feel blissful, and I am afraid that even in my most gallant of attempts the first will be difficult to accomplish. I do not want a wife who lies there and finds no enjoyment in being with her husband, our love with burn hot and bright." As the words leave her mouth, she is startled to find them matching what Bonnie had said earlier.

"I shall not mess around today, for such lust and love should be private between you and eye. Although I would happily give them a show, I know that you would rather this be over. I am sorry to hurt you. All other carnal acts will be filled with pleasure and desire." He mutters, stroking her face.

She can feel him brushing against her, the member that she knows so little of. She blushes as she sees sight of him stroking it for a moment, pulling it from his breeches. Then it's there, pushing in and Damon is once again pressing his lips against her own, allowing her moan of pain to be muffled. He pulls out before pushing in further until he's at the hilt. He stops, his eyes focusing on her own. Carefully he brushes the tear from her eyes and begins to move his hips.

Aside from the dull ache, Elena decides that it is an odd feeling as he thrusts in and out. Her hands clutch his back, his breath hot against his neck as he breathes heavily. It is not perhaps as horrific as she feared, an uncomfortable chore. She wonders how it would feel to have pleasure, how it would feel to be truly passionate with Damon. But in the end this act was done to create an heir, not for so called passion or love. It means very little.

Damon moves faster, gasps escaping him as flesh hit flesh. There is a flowering of something, a feeling that is nice although strange and dull. She feels each thrust become more uncontrolled, his breathing is uneven and then he stills, his seed filling her as he moans into her neck, which reminds her somewhat of a choking sound. He relaxes on top of her briefly, and she can feel the tone of his body against hers for a moment before he rolls away. Elena pulls down her chemise, noticing the scarlet staining white sheets. Damon pulls up his breeches opening the curtains. The witnesses take a look at the bed and nod. They leave and Damon walks over to the chamber pot, Elena can only presume to relieve himself.

In a few moments Damon is climbing back inside the bed, pulling her body to his own. "Open your heart to me, Elena."

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><p><strong>Note:<strong> It has come to my attention that I have yet to actually write a scene with Stefan in! I promise that the next chapter will involve him and his "hero hair".

**Also,** that is probably the most awkward "smutty" scene I have ever written (which is why it isn't so explicit and descriptive), although I will say that all others will be more enjoyable on both sides.

(Elena's wedding gown was inspired heavily by Jane Seymour's on The Tudors. But with bell sleeves and bodice in the late 15th century style.)

Please review!

Much love, Charlotte.


	6. Chapter 6

**Shut Your Eyes and Endure**

Elena of York, daughter of Jonathan IV is betrothed to be married to the new Lancastrian king of England. Under her breath she whispers the word usurper, and knows that behind his charm is the monster who killed the people that she cared deeply about. (AU, AH)

**Note: **I know, I suck! The past couple of weeks have totally kicked my butt and writing this wasn't at the forefront of my mind unfortunately. But, I am happy to be back and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I must admit that it did not want to write, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these fabulous characters unfortunately, but the story itself is mine as are any original characters that I will inevitably create.

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><p><strong>Chapter VI: <strong>Another Love

There is a recognisable movement beside her, the bed dipping as her husband extracts himself. She can tell that the room is bright, as she cracks her eyes open slightly. But she would much rather him think she were still asleep, so she keeps her eyes closed as he presses a kiss to her forehead – much to her surprise, and leaves the room. She had expected him to leave her chambers not long after the bedding, but instead he had stayed the night with her. Her body had gravitated towards his warmth and when she had woken in the earliest hours of the morning, when the castle was silent and Damon's soft and steady breath was the only thing she could hear, her head had been resting against his chest, him arms wrapped around her waist. There was a comfort in it, a warmth of love that she found, it didn't disgust her – but she was not happy either. She had extracted herself to roll away from him, yet hours later she had found herself seeking the warmth of her husband whilst in deep slumber.

A soft murmur of voices can be heard as he bids a good morning to her ladies maids, only Caroline and Bonnie at the present time. She would have to welcome the new arrivals, which she could only presume were settling into their chambers. They will greet her after breakfast, when she is dressed and looking regal in fine satins, and rich colours. When the chamber door finally opens and closes, Elena sits up. "We need the linens." With a pull of the covers, Elena is getting out of the bed and the scarlet stain taunts her. She sighs, walking over to the basin full of hot water. A bath was not necessary, they took a long time to prepare – time that she didn't have. So instead she picked up a linen cloth and dipped it into the water, before applying it to her body.

Out of the corner of her eye, linens were being pulled away, evidence of her virtue to be paraded and kept safe – never to be washed, blessed bed sheets that would hopefully grant a wedding night babe to fill her. Perhaps a child will grow quickly, but she knew that sometimes it took longer. Her mother had simply told her to make a child quickly. Elizabeth had looked at her and said that 'all would be well', nothing more and nothing less.

Elena takes her place at the table, waiting patiently to be served. It was better to not think of what they would do with her sheets, she didn't want to know. "How was it?" Caroline enquires, setting down a plate of meats, bread and fruit. There is no room for her to speak as Bonnie interrupts with a bark. "Caroline!" She is taken about by the actions of both her friends, but ignores it. She wishes to hide herself away, curl up into her bed and pray that Damon never finds the hidden door to her chambers, it would only give him more freedom to walk in easily,

Time passes quickly and Elena doesn't feel enthusiastic about meeting her new ladies, she has no doubts that whatever she says will be reported to Damon, his own little spies to be infiltrated within the deepest parts of her chambers. No words that leave her mouth will remain a secret, trust will not be granted to anyone but Bonnie and Caroline. Every curious question would naturally be met with a look of distain. The arrival of new ladies does not entertain her, and despite the merriment that one might feel the day after a wedding, she felt down as if a great weight pulled tirelessly at her heart.

"Your majesty, might I have a word?" She turns her head, eyes settling on one of the new ladies with a soft sigh. She had discussed some of the new ladies with Elizabeth, but her household included four more that she was not expecting. One included the Lady Adaline, of whom Damon was rumoured to have bed several times. There were whispers of a child in the belly, the lady had looked uneasy – but no child came.

"What is it, Lady Adaline?" She questions, looking at the red-haired woman. Elena's expression was stoic, unaware of how she should approach the situation of having Damon's former (or current) lover in her chambers.

"My father, the Duke of Norfolk has formed a betrothal for me, with a man named Thomas I believe. But I have only just joined your ladies, it would seem unfit for me to do so. Do you not agree, your majesty?" She questions, a mysterious glint in her eye that offered nothing of her true intent.

"All marriages between nobles must be blessed by the king under this new rule. The king will want to make as many Salvatore roots as he can. Your union will be to his uncle, or cousin." Elena responds, wondering if the woman before her was simply delighting in the idea of being around Damon longer as an unwed woman. She was not jealous, such a thing would not come from her in reference to Damon.

"Back to your duties, Lady Adaline." She dismisses, picking up her book with no other words. When Elena thought that perhaps she might get the smallest amount of peace and quiet, there chamber doors opened and Damon's brother is announced. Elena stands up from her spot and walks over to him.

"Your grace, are you here to see the Lady Caroline?" Elena questions, bowing her head as he bows, steeper that her own. She is a queen and he is a lord. "No, your majesty. His majesty asks that you meet him in the gardens." The words took Elena by surprise, but then should she be surprised that Damon didn't come to ask him herself – probably not.

Elena's ladies busy themselves, dressing her for the cooler weather. A layer of snow has now blanketed the ground and made it look beautiful. She couldn't help but wonder why Damon wished to meet her outside, why he wanted to see her at all. It had only been a few hours since he'd left her chambers and he'd likely return to them later, she just wanted to be left alone for a little while. But being queen meant never having time alone, never having a private thought spoken aloud without it being uttered back to her husband. It was simply a prettier cage than she had before, but a cage all the same.

"Your majesty, are we to come with you?" One of the ladies voices, she doesn't care to look – too tired of constantly being watched. Immediately she shakes her head, deciding that she could very well make it down to the gardens without being escorted by a group of ladies and whoever else wanted to join. She would go alone, to see what her dear husband wanted in demanding her attention.

"Go about your chores, ladies. I shall be back later." Elena responds, although part of her wished she could just send them all away. She knew that her friends would recognise her frustration, but the other ladies would not. They didn't know her well enough for that.

Elena left the chambers with her head held high, courtiers bowed as she walked through the gap that had started to separate since she'd appeared. It was then that she realised that this was the first time that the court was seeing her since the wedding, and gossip regarding the royal couple was sought after. She poised herself, dispelling any sigh of frustration to put on a good public image, content and happy to be in the position that she now holds.

"There's my darling wife! I'm so happy that you didn't keep me waiting in the cold for so long." The sarcastic tones of Damon's voice fills her ears when she finally gets to the gardens. It's true that she' walked slowly down the pathway to get to him, revelling in the peace and quiet of personal solitude. Of course, all good things had to end, especially around Damon.

"Then you shouldn't have invited me to the gardens in the snow. Problem solved." She responded, pulling the fur of her cloak closer to her body. She watches Damon step forward, bringing from his cloak a small toy spaniel. "A gift for you my queen." He announces, placing the small puppy in her arms.

"Why did we need to be outside for this?" She questions with a raised eyebrow, looking down at the small puppy. Despite his arguably smooth moves, she did not appreciate his attempts to buy her affections. First the emerald necklace, now a puppy…what was next? A ship? She knew to him her tone would sound ungrateful, but he couldn't expect her to be happy about something that was a weak attempt to gain affection.

"Elena, you and I are married now. You're mine and no matter what you say doesn't change that. So you can either let go of the resentment you feel and try to get along. Or your life will be hard to live. " He tells her, Elena wonders what the intent of his words were. To shock or worry? "Are you trying to threaten me?" She questions, pulling the puppy her under her coat to keep it warm from the cold.

"It's a warning, Elena. I once told you that I could be the monster you feared me to be – don't make me be that monster." He tells her, stroking a strand of her hair with a gloved hand. "Why can you just not let it go?" He questions. Elena looks up at him sharply before sitting down on the iron bench. The puppy seemed to like this transition and found a perfect spot to lie in on her gown, with the cloak still surrounding his small body. "How can you ask me to do that?"

"If history were reversed and I had lost, things would undoubtedly be different. But god willed it to be this way, my mother dreamt of this and so it became. I grew up believing that one day I would take my rightful place and you grew up believing that your family were the true heirs. Either way, someone lost. You cannot resent me for not losing a battle. It was not I who took the sword to your beloved Alaric's body. But do not think that just because I am king that I did not have losses in that battle, people that I cared about." He spoke with such honesty, that she had never heard before. It was a welcomed change, and it made her feel as if she owed him.

"I loved him, I believe it was love. My mother said it was no such thing, that he was simply using me. My aunt was dying, she succumbed to a sickness and before that their only child had died. They had nothing, my mother said that I was the easiest choice. A niece – not close enough in relation to really cause a stir, but with a purely legitimate claim to the throne. She said I was nothing more than a pretty chess piece, easily swayed by sweet words. She said this as he rode off to battle, trying to discredit the love he told me. I don't know if his words were true, if his love was real…but now that he's dead, it seems wrong to discredit him. The truth cannot hurt me now. But I feel that if I were to let my heart be free of him, it would be a dishonour to his memory." She admitted, watching as Damon slumped on the bench beside her. "I blame you because it seems wrong to blame the dead."

"I have never loved another, so I cannot tell you if it was real. But I believe in my heart that I could love you, Elena. You light up a room, you're the light in my dark world. Privy Council meetings are met with such anguish, as if the very dynasty that I'm trying to build could so easily crumble, but you're what I need, I need your light because you're the good. Love may not come easy for you, I know this…you have felt much pain for someone so young. But perhaps you could like me, indulge the times we spend together and trust me."

"Okay. I'll try." She whispers, her lips parting as he presses a kiss against them. The honesty between them had offered a small bridge, a light that the resentment in her couldn't touch. Maybe Damon would prove to be a good thing in the end. But she was still skeptical about it. Damon Salvatore was turning everything she believed upside down.

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><p><strong>Note:<strong> Please Review this chapter, I would love to hear your feedback.

I shall see you next Sunday with another update.

Charlotte x


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